


The Lightning's Child

by The_Lupine_Sojourner



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Eomer is awesome, Eomer may or may not be my favorite LotR character (tied with Faramir), F/M, I love Merry Pippin and Sam too, I totally agree with Boromir about the Hobbits, The Hobbits are 'Little Ones' in so many ways. I love them, This is my biggest project and hope you like!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-02-28 13:07:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13272072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lupine_Sojourner/pseuds/The_Lupine_Sojourner
Summary: Running in a thunderstorm was CLEARLY not Rowena O'Neil's brightest idea. After all, it cost her her life on the shores of Loch Ness.Or so she thought.Rowena then appears out of nowhere in the fields of Rohan as the Three Hunters run to retrieve the Hobbits. She bears strange markings, like a leaf-less tree, imprinted on her left side and limbs, running with the Hunters, right into Eomer.Uses books, movies, and my twists. Features Eomer/OC as main couple & canon couples.





	1. Prologue: Arrival

Running in the rain has never been a struggle or something to hate for me.

To the contrary, I quite enjoyed it. It seemed to wash away my troubles, leaving them pounded thoroughly into the ground I left behind. That being said…

I had never been in a storm like  _this_. Guess that's what I get for choosing to live in the mountains of Scotland near Loch Ness. I suppose they had a charm I couldn't resist and a peace well worth the occasional storm my choice of habitat cost me. But, again, this was worse than any I had run in before. Lightning flashed all around me, thunder drowning out whatever noise I made. I pressed on doggedly, however, refusing to let the elements beat me into submission.

Cursing, I slip just as I round a tight corner on the edge of a steep bank of the mysterious lake. I tumble harshly down the hill and just as I hit the water, I feel lightning strike my chest, right over my heart, and I know nothing but pain, then darkness takes me as I sink deeper into the water, a strange peace suddenly overcoming me as my eyes slide closed.

=#=#=#=#=

I slowly come to to find myself leaning against something that feels like stone. I would frown if I had the energy.

I had hit the...the water...just as lightning struck me. I hadn't been stopped by a stone. There were no stones in my path to hit, really. So...why was I leaning against stone now? Were there stones in heaven? Had I died? I move to swallow, though my mouth and throat are too dry for it to accomplish anything more than irritating my already sore throat. I hear a ringing in my ears akin to tinnitus as I moan a little.

"Aragorn, the stranger awakes." I hear someone call, his voice melodic and pleasant, rising above the ringing. Was he an angel of some sort? Here to guide me to whatever awaits the dead? I then hear shuffling and a hand upon my brow.

"Gimli, bring water. Our guest is starting to burn with dehydration." Another voice orders, this one a natural leader, a voice of authority, his deep, rich baritones calming.

"Aye." A gruff, but not altogether unpleasant voice replies, moving away to obey the command. I shift my eyes and they slit open. I suddenly am aware of warmth coming from a source directly in front of me and a light crackling noise. My eyes open more to reveal that I am sitting before a fire in the small hours before dawn. I blink. How long had I been out? I'd been running in the early morning…but not  _this_  early.

I am then drawn to the man beside me I hadn't noticed before as he accepts something from the figure I take to be Gimli, presumably the requested water. His back was turned to me, so I could not be certain. "Pleasure to see you awake, lass. You gave us quite a shock." Gimli (I recognize his voice from earlier) politely informs me, tipping his head slightly, red hair plaited down his back and beard nearly hiding everything but his eyes. Aragorn, I think, moves the thing he took from Gimli closer to my mouth and I am somehow able to move and accept the water, gulping large mouthfuls down greedily. I suppose a lightning strike would do that to you.

"Careful." Aragorn cautions. I know he is Aragorn now that I have heard his voice. "You do not wish to drink too much and end up worse for it." I nod slowly, looking at Gimli again, and find that he could be a native of Scotland. The frizzy red hair, the full beard, the manner in which he speaks, I've heard and seen it all before.

"Th-thanks." I croak through my slightly parched throat. Aragorn sits back a little, smiling as he puts the water aside. I note it's in some kind of bag, but set that aside for now as the third member of this trio, the one that informed Aragorn that I was awake, comes forth.

"What are your symptoms, milady?" He asks, crouching at my other side. I frown. 'Milady'?

"Ringing in my ears, a migraine, and a parched throat." I report. Aragorn nods.

"All signs of dehydration. However, we are near a river. How did you come to be in this condition?" He asks. I struggle to sit up again and end up against the rock once more.

"Lightning strike." I tell them. Gimli scoffs, opening his mouth to reply, but Aragorn glances at him, and Gimli stills.

"Milady, there has been no rain here in weeks. How could you have been struck by lightning?" I frown. There most certainly  _had_  been rain. Just last night, unless I had been unconscious far longer than I thought. And why do they insist on calling me 'milady'? Odd...

"I don't- -I was in a storm. I was running around Loch Ness, and- -"

"Loch Ness?" Aragorn asks. "Never have I heard of a place by that name, and I know these lands well."

"It's just over…" I start before realizing that I had no clue where I was. This place feels unfamiliar. "Aren't we near a lake?" Aragorn shakes his head.

"There is no lake in Rohan, mi- -"

"Rowena." I interject. I wasn't used to being addressed by anything else. "My name is Rowena." Aragorn nods.

"Very well. There are no lakes in Rohan, Rowena." He repeats. I frown. Why does that sound familiar..?

"Rohan?" I ask Gimli comes forward.

"Aye, Rohan. Where else should we be?"

"Um...Scotland?" I reply, now feeling up to moving to sit up and accomplishing the goal at last. Aragorn steadies me with a hand on my back.

"There is no Scotland in Middle-Earth, Rowena." I pale. Wait… "Where exactly do you think you are?" Aragorn asks. Good question, I muse inwardly. I swallow.

"My...my home in...oh, man…" Suddenly, everything clicks and I groan, realizing what this means; I had somehow been transported to Middle-Earth, a fictional land in a book series I hadn't heard or read in years. I'd never even finished reading it all the way through; I only got to Two Towers before my life became too busy and I was too bored to continue reading. "Okay…" I breath. "I am sorry. My mind was...was hazy." I apologize, trying to sound more confident that I knew where I was now than I truly felt. "So, we are in Rohan?" Aragorn apparently can tell I lie, but does not press me.

"Yes. We are tracking Uruk-Hai across these lands to rescue our companions, a pair of Halflings." I searched my memory. Someone created Uruk-Hai, right? In a palace-tower thing? And Halflings...were Hobbits, if I remember right. I nod. "We came across you when we stopped for the night. On our approach, I swore nothing was here, but you were lying against the rock when we arrived to rest for a few hours." I nod again, processing all this information.

"So I've only been out for a few hours?" Aragorn nods.

"As far as we can tell, yes."

"Gave us quite a scare, you did. Thought you were dead, but here you are, and we are glad to hear it!" Gimli adds cheerily. I smile.

"Yeah, me, too." Aragorn frowns, moving to get a better look at me.

"I would say you are Gondorian, by your dark hair, but you have the eyes of a Rohir." I chuckle.

"Not an uncommon combination, where I am from." I reply before I can stop myself. The trio stiffens, but Aragorn and the still unknown man (he's startlingly beautiful and entrancing to look at) act as though suspicions were merely being confirmed.

"Are you not from here, lady Rowena?" The only member whose name I don't know asks. "There is something foreign in your presence and countenance, but perhaps you are simply a traveler."  _I suppose that's somewhat true. A traveler between worlds, apparently._  I swallow.

"...No. I am from a...a very distant land, far, far away." Aragorn leans forward.

"Tell me. I know of many lands."

"...A land called Scotland, in what I believe may be an entirely different world." I reply after a moment. Aragorn frowns, a calculatingly piercing gaze fixed on me.

"And yet, you wear clothes that seem from  _this_  world." He notes. I look down, frowning. I realize that I have, indeed, gotten a change of clothes. Where should have been drenched running capris, a three-quarter sleeve shirt and running shoes, there was now a pair of cotton leggings, thick and warm against night's chill with a simple shirt under a thick, fur-lined coat, complete with knit arm warmers to keep my forearms warm whenever I remove the coat. I was also wearing a pair of knee-length leather boots that seemed already molded to my feet, fur peeking out. I blink.

"I was not wearing this a moment ago. I was running around a lake in a thunderstorm, when I stumbled and fell, lightning striking me as I hit the water." I explain, finding a satchel beside me. I had never seen it before and yet it seemed familiar to me. Aragorn frowns.

"Why were you running in a thunderstorm? Were you being pursued?" I shake my head.

"I am stubborn and didn't let the rain deter me from my daily run. I see now it was a very foolish idea, but the rain did not start til I was already a few miles away from home and I didn't want to cut the run short." I explain. The three men look at me strangely.

"Your...daily run?" Aragorn asks. I nod.

"My daily exercise. I run around six miles a day." Gimli guffaws, but Aragorn nods.

"If that is true or not, we will soon know. Our pursuit is delayed by your arrival, milady, and now we must press on. You are to come with us, I'm afraid. I would not risk harm to you in these lands and we are out of other options." I nod, grabbing my satchel, pulling the strap over my head and settling it in a position that would not (hopefully) hinder my running.

"Alright then." I tell them, motioning them on. "Right behind you."

=#=#=#=#=

I regret my decision! My legs are aching and my breath has long since abandoned me. My satchel has created a bruise against my thigh and I am about to pass out or give up, letting them run on without me.

"Keep breathing. That's the key." Gimli groans beside me, falling a little behind. "Just keep breathing." I nod, but can't speak as I press on doggedly. It felt as though I were on my first run. It was nearing 11:00 in the morning and not  _once_  had we stopped.

These three must be  _truly_  desperate to reclaim their friends if they press themselves past physical limits like this, which brings me to a slightly disturbing thoughts: How are we going to be able to fight off whatever awaits us if we are exhausted from running? I ignore the thought and continue on.

I suppose we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.


	2. Running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the race to find the Hobbits, Rowena is happy to simply keep trudging forward as fast as possible. Aragorn takes notice, and calls a halt, only to have the break cut short when mysterious riders happen upon them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FORGOT TO UPDATE!!!!!!!! Sorry guys!!!! If you're not given up with this story, you can go to Fanfiction.net and look up Lightning's Child there. Once again, SORRY!   
> Anyway, this is a hybrid between the books, movies, and my own slight twists. Hope you're cool with that, cus here we go!   
> God Bless and Good Day!   
> ~The Lupine Sojourner

Two more hours were spent running before we were able to halt, as Aragorn leapt off the path of the tracks we were apparently following (I couldn't see them beyond the trampled grass from my companions) and was soon back, reporting that one of the Halflings (PIppin, I think Aragorn called him) had left the group of their captors and tossed what appeared to be a leaf, stiff and frozen, but it soon became apparent that it was some kind of brooch, meant to fasten something together or for mere decoration. Aragorn and the others looked on it grimly.

"Not idly do the Leaves of Lorien fall." Aragorn notes heavily. I frown.

"What does this mean?" I ask, suddenly noting that all three of the men I run with have grey, embroidered cloaks fastened about their necks with the same brooch that lay, dirty, in the man's hand.

"It means we are on the right track and that our friends still have the use of legs and reason." The slender blonde man, who had introduced himself as Legolas during one of our brief rests, replied. Aragorn had often accounted for the Uruk's changing position and pace by merely lying on the ground, listening intently and so gave us brief rests I took to eat what the men call Lembas bread, as well as water. I was amazed the he could read the earth like that, and knew better than to question him, as he was, so far, leading us in the right direction, according to the flat grass trail we ran along. Gimli, now a few feet behind me, came stumbling over a rock, tumbling over the edge and coming clumsily to his feet.

"Come on, Gimli, and Lady Rowena! We're gaining on them!" Legolas calls eagerly, striding forward before turning his head and starting to run.

"I'm wasted on cross-country! We Dwarves are natural sprinters." Gimli moans, shuffling forward. I blink. Okay...I remember Dwarves being in the books, I think. "Very dangerous over short distances, milady." He explains. I nod.

"If you can speak, you can run faster. Come along!" I call, picking up the pace, ignoring the slight dizziness and light-headed feeling clinging to me, more prominent in my left side. It was only getting worse and I knew that once I stopped, I would need to sleep for as long as our hasty pursuit allowed. So I pressed myself harder and made what energy I had left count. Suddenly, Aragorn and Legolas come to a halt and peer across the land.

"Rohan, home of the Horse-Lords." Aragorn informs me as I draw up next to him. I frown a little, panting, wondering what that might mean. He's panting a little, as well, but seems okay to carry on. I am bent double, barely upright with my hands on my knees. Stars dance before my eyes and I blink them away, straightening up again. "Something strange is at work here." Aragorn notes, frowning as he scans the area again. "Some evil gives speed to these creatures, sets its will against us."

"That's just  _great_." I grumble sarcastically, leaning against a nearby rock outcropping. "At least we're...we're gaining on them, right?" Legolas nods, then looks directly at me.

"Lady Rowena, are you alright?" I nod through the resurging stars and spots, taking in air with a measured calm I didn't quite feel. The ringing had intensified as I pressed myself closer to collapse.

"I'll be fine." I reply, taking a proffered nip of Lembas. This bread was sweet yet sustaining, light yet rich. It also does not give me cramps as I run. A real marvel to behold. Life seeps a little back into me and I feel a little steadier. Legolas and Aragorn then move out, Gimli and I coming along behind. Aragorn halts again after two hours, Legolas running to a higher rock to have another look around.

"Legolas, what do your Elf eyes see?" Aragorn calls. I wasn't shocked by the different races anymore. After all, he seems a little  _too_  good-looking to be entirely human. Legolas continues his search before replying.

"The Uruks turn northeast!" They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard!" He calls back. I can't help but crack a smile, playing that stupid remix in my head. Aragorn frowns, eyes growing worried and desperate, eyes still scanning the area. I cock a brow, though, at the mention of Isengard. I can't remember. He notices.

"Home of the evil wizard Sauruman." He tells me. I nod. Right. That was the Uruk-Hai creator's name, if my memory serves. I remember now that it was said aloud and I didn't have to dig it out of memory. We pressed on until dawn with only a brief moment to get water and a hasty breakfast. Now that our hunt was nearing it's end...my mind turned to what would happen when we did reach them. I was in no condition to fight, and I imagine neither are my companions, if it came down to it. However many enemies there were, we stood little chance of actually taking them out and retrieving the Halfings that had been stolen. I still didn't know much about what was happening, too focused on working through my present pain to really try and remember. Legolas halts for a moment to scan the sunrise. His eyes widen.

"A red sun rises. Blood has been split this night." He whispers. I swallow, wondering whether or not it was the Hobbits', but unwilling to drag everyone's mood down by verbalizing my thoughts. Another few hours and we were halted as Aragorn consulted the ground. Suddenly, there was a noise like thunder (I stiffen, the phantom pain of electricity sending a pricking sensation across my chest and down my left leg and arm) and a whistle. I frown, running with the men to a rock we dodge behind. The thunder increases and suddenly there are a great number of horses and riders tumbling past us down the hill. Evidently, Aragorn recognizes these riders and is soon on their outskirts without fear.

"Aragorn!" I hiss. He doesn't even look at me, cupping his hands around his mouth in increase the volume of his voice.

"Riders of Rohan!" He calls. "What news from the Mark?" He asks, and at the head of the charge, a tall man in a helm with a plume of horse hair (or that's what it looks like. That, coupled with the fact that this is apparently the 'land of the Horse-Lords', leads me to believe I am right) raises a spear and as one the entire troupe turns and comes swinging back around. I take a step out with Legolas and Gimli as the horses approach, unable to hear anything over the ringing in my ears and the thunder of hooves. As the riders come closer, they spread out and before I fully realize it, we are surrounded and any chance of slipping out of the circle was lost. We tense, me wanting nothing more than to collapse in exhaustion. The horses stomp, but come to a standstill at their masters' direction, the men as tense as we are. I suddenly find myself in the middle of the circle of men as the riders' spears come down and point themselves at our chests. Tense seconds pass as we await these men's next move. The man who had signalled his men to turn around, bearing himself in a proud, authoritative manner, comes forward confidently into his men's thicket of spears.

"What business does a Man, a Woman, an Elf, and a Dwarf have in the Riddermark?" He demands harshly, as if annoyed at being halted from his business. I wait for Aragorn to have the first word, to decide where this was going to go. "Speak quickly!" The man snaps. I flinch slightly, and in so doing, unleash a sudden pounding in my ears as I sway on my feet a little. Legolas subtly offers his arm and I lean as little into the support as possible. If I were to draw attention to myself, it may cause problems and further hinderance on our quest. And we needed all the speed we could muster.

"Tell me your name, horse master, and I shall tell you mine." Gimli replies cockily, leaning smugly on his ax handle. The man glares at the Dwarf, hands his spear to a nearby rider, and dismounts, stomping forward furiously.

"I would cut off your head,  _Dwarf_ , if it stood but a little higher from the ground." The man seethed through gritted teeth. Gimli looked nonplussed, but suddenly, the support of Legolas was withdrawn and I was left to fall abruptly down, the stars and spots nearly stealing all of my vision, my head whirling painfully.


End file.
